Armani Suits
by Sunni D. Lockhart
Summary: When he wants to dress like a girl, he's adorable. When he wants to dress like a man, he's sexy. How can one being be so attractive as either gender?
1. Chapter 1

Armani Suits

I suppose, in some cases, even I have to appreciate that fashion is wonderful thing. Though, it is a thing that I have no qualms with leaving exclusively to other countries; Germany is suited better for engineering and breweries anyway. I can't say I would feel quite like myself if I spent a part of me hemming and hawing about fabrics and seam lines. No, it is a market I feel far more comfortable admiring from behind the rim of a good frothy beer.

There are three things that I accredit Feliciano with: Food, Romance, and Fashion. It seems to be the only aspect of foreign commerce that he is truly passionate about:

"_Can you believe that Mr. England? Trying to cash in on MY brilliant design?"_

"_Big brother France is doing better than me! I can't believe this!"_

"_Japan's style is really strange! I think we're in entirely different leagues!"_

He's always in a tizzy about some fashion show, or hounding his designers to perfection.

I could care less about which country has better designs. I just want to see what Feli's wearing.

Italy is amazing in his ambiguity. When he wants to wear girls clothes, he's adorable in a sort of "Lolita" way that is downright fuckable.

I'll never forget three years ago during Oktoberfest when Gilbert thought it would be fun to invite Feli for the first drinking contest…Oh the fingers I had to break…

_Why today? Why? My favorite day of the year and Gilbert does something like this to me. _

_There, standing in the middle of the Festhaus, is Feliciano…._

…_In a God damned Beer Girl outfit._

_The white blouse is off the shoulder, fitted around his waist by a black corset strung up with a red ribbon. A filly green skirt, complete with an apron and white trimming, reaches his mid thigh. Pretty, lacy stockings come up over his knees adorned with little bows at the top. He's stuffed his shirt with something incredible because if I didn't know better, I'd say that he's totting a very respectable C cup. He's gotten hair extensions as two pigtails now curl down to his waist, streamed with colorful ribbons. _

_In his hands are two iced mugs of beer._

_Is that…did I just…Verdammt, I just ejaculated in my pants. _

_His eyes glimmer with joy when he catches sight of me, "Ludwig! Ludwig! Look what Gilbert gave me! Isn't it cute?" He twirls, making the skirt billow and giving the men crowded around him a miniscule peak at the pink panties he's pulled on. _

_Repressing the part of me that would love to castrate anyone who dares to look at Italy like that is proving to be difficult. _

_He skips over to me, without tripping and falling in his six inch pumps, and hands me a mug, "Oh, I can't believe you never invited me before! I've never seen so many of your citizens so happy and friendly!"_

_I can't register what he's saying over my own inner dialogue…consisting mostly of 'I want to sleep with you, I want to sleep with you, I want to fuck you over the table while chugging this beer,' or other lewd things along those lines. _

_I catch a glimpse of Prussia downing a pint while staring with eyes full of mirth at Italy. He is having too much fun with this. _

However, I think it's even better when he's wearing his Armani suits. Those lovely, silken suits tailored snuggly to his svelte figure, giving him a masculine look that still hints at his more feminine features, like his wide hips and curvaceous butt. How is it that one being can be so attractive portraying either sex?

I stare out the window of my study, admiring the way the trees catch the remaining rays of sunshine when I see him making his way towards the house. He's wearing one of his multiple Armani suits. I can't help but love it; he's not adorable in his suit, he's darker, sensual and beautiful.

The dogs have heard him, and bound towards him howling in excitement. He is knocked to the ground; Blackie, Aster and Berlitz pawing furiously at his jacket and plastering his face with their tongues. The front of his suit jacket is covered in muddy paw prints, and his dress shirt has come undone from his pants. He grins and ruffles their ears, attempting to stand up again.

They tug eagerly at his pant legs and push their noses into the backs of his knees and the crevices of his groin. He sheds his jacket, throwing it to the ground in favor of finding sticks for them to fetch.

I love him. I love him beyond a mere sexual level. He is not a silly, frivolous man whose only traits seem to be those of idleness and clumsiness. He understands the nature of life and love and beauty beyond that of pretty dresses or expensive suits. He values the beauty of life over anything, and forcefully makes himself a part of it.

If I could be a part of him…would I be a part of life itself?

If I were one with him…would I be one with the beauty of the world?

Feliciano…Feliciano…

I want to be one with you.


	2. Chapter 2

-Feliciano Vargas-

I wish I took more time to think about things. Whenever I stop for a minute and think about what I do, I notice two or three things that were clumsy or silly or not planned at all. I'll be running up to hug someone, than whoops! Sorry I stepped on your toes! Or I'll be eating my gelato too fast and oh! A brain freeze! Or I'll be calling out to someone to say hello and oh, I didn't mean to be so loud…

Sometimes I wonder if I really am stupid, like Romano says I am.

Sometimes I wake up and I just can't get a hold of the world. I sit there in my bed and forget who I am, and all of a sudden the whole reality of life comes back to me and I think to myself, "I'm Italy Veneciano, and I've been alive for 2,000 years. How amazing that is! How amazing it is to be me and be real and be alive!"

It's funny how easy it is for me to forget myself and just sort of float off into the sky; as though God lowered a huge hook from the heavens and it catches me under my ribs and hoists me up into the air as if I had wings! I'll dangle up there thinking about the infinity of stars and the probability of immortal souls until Germany shouts at me to pay attention again.

How I love Germany! I love him so much that it hurts me sometimes, and my chest tightens and my insides squeeze together and for a moment I'll think 'I can't breathe' and I really believe I can't, and so he has to shake me to get me to breathe again.

I wonder if he knows how much it hurts my feelings when he pushes me away from a hug, or locks his door at night, or makes a point to look at everything but me. I hate it when he doesn't tell me what he's thinking, or what he's feeling.

A lot of the time, I want to hold my arms out to him, and shout:

"_Ludwig, just look at me for one moment as though you really saw me!"_

"_Look at me! I'm here, aren't I? How can you not see me when I'm actually here?"_

"_Things won't always be this wonderful, Ludwig. Someday everyone will be fighting again and people will die and things will be hard, so hard! But for right now let's be happy! Let's LOOK at one another!"_

How I wish I could say those things to him…

But, at the same time, I'm happy with how things are between us right now. To me, he's all that keeps me tethered to the world; to what's REAL to what's HERE to what's NOW.

Ludwig is what keeps me alive.

I could never stop myself from wanting him to love me. I want him to hold me, and kiss me, and take away the virginity that I've wanted to give to him for over a century!

Would he want it?

Would he want to make love to me?

Other people want to…Big brother France does! Only, he wants to do that to everyone…

I don't think Gilbert does…I think he's really in love with Big sister Hungary, after all. Isn't that lovely? I ought to tell Gilbert to tell her and then they can get married! And I could design her dress, and cook the wedding dinner, and we could have the ceremony at my house! Right in St. Peter's! And I'd find them a nice villa in Tuscany or Venice for their honeymoon and it would be so romantic! Flowers and music and candles…

Ah, how I love romance. I used to be so content with just watching other people fall in love. I remember the day Japan asked for love advice, because he was in love Mr. Greece, and I was so happy that he wanted my help! When they got married, I was proud, because it meant that something wonderful happened because of me…and that that somehow made up for me being such a coward all the time.

But now…I feel like watching other people be in love just hurts…because Germany doesn't love me…

Please love me, Ludwig…

Please love me, Ludwig….

Please become one with me.


	3. Chapter 3

The summer months are always the most unpleasant months for Germany. They are the only three months of the year that Italy has no desire to visit him, and prefers to exclusively occupy his own country. This in turn gives Germany no excuse to pay special attention to him, as he is no longer causing distraction after distraction around his house.

Often, Ludwig likens it to the tale of Hades and Persephone; Content to stay with her husband in the cold and gloomy prison of the underworld in winter, until the euphoria of spring time calls her back to the light of the world she was born for.

He often wondered what such a separation must have done to Hades; to forever have to face how ill suited he was for the woman he loved. To be face to face with the fact that he was about as nurturing as a slab of stone.

It was the middle of July. Ludwig hadn't seen Feliciano since May. He was getting anxious.

Of course, Feli had sent him several letters, the contents ranging from the tomato season, to pretty girls in swimsuits, to summer fashion and so on.

His last letter described him moving his latest sculpture into his garden. He said it hung over his pond so nicely, that Ludwig simply had to come see it.

His black Mercedes kicked up clouds of dust as it rolled smoothly into the driveway. Stepping out into the Mediterranean summer heat, Ludwig undid the top two buttons of his shirt. He made his way up the gravel driveway towards Italy's villa.

Germany secretly relished in his visits to Italy, particularly Feliciano's home. It was of classic Italian architecture, two stories, high ceilings, with archway entrances. Tall, rounded windows lined the second story, rectangular glass doors on the base floor, Ivy crawled up the cream colored walls. Elegant balconies curved outward to overlook the lawn with flower boxes filled with azaleas decorating the railings.

"_Ve~ I wanted them to look like Juliet's balcony!"_ Feliciano had once told him, _"Doesn't it just inspire romance, Ludwig?" _he cooed.

Ludwig would agree. He had had several fantasies of exchanging delicate words with the Italian from below the balcony, scaling the wall to drag him inside, fling him upon the soft feather bed and making long, slow love to him. Too often he awoke from that fantasy in a cold sweat and a more than urgent need for a handful of lubricant.

He strolled up the long walkway, past the line of cypress trees to the front porch. Anna, one of his hired help, answered the door, "Oh! _Buon Pomerigio _Signore Ludwig! Signore Vargas is in the garden. Shall I call for a cart?"

"_Nein_, thank you _fraulein_. I'd much rather walk," he attempted a smile, "The gardens are very beautiful this time of year."

The young woman gulped at the intimidating man's harsh but well meaning smile, "Y-Yes! They really are, aren't they? Signore Vargas loves them so much. His artwork only makes them more beautiful, _si?_"

"Yes, I agree." He walked around the front of the house to reach the large gate in the back leading to the garden.

There was a reason it was recommended to take a cart through the garden. It was at least 2,000 acres in size, a large portion of it tree groves. There were three ponds, one lake, a swimming pool, and even a man made waterfall. Centuries of his sculptures inhabited every corner of his garden.

He also had begun to keep animals around. Several lop-eared bunnies skittered around Ludwig, lifting up on their hind legs, expecting treats. A peacock fanned out its tail proudly, strutting past him boastfully.

Germany breathed in deeply, getting drunk on the floral scent permeating through the air. He strolled past The Reflecting Pool, surrounded by Grecian statues of gods and beasts.

He stopped at one of his favorite sculptures, "Eros and Psyche." Both traditionally nude, they stood at the edge of the pool; Psyche twisted at an impossible angle, craning her neck towards her lover. Eros clutched her waist, leaning over her with desire rampant in his carved eyes. Italy could paint lust like no one else.

He walked for awhile, enjoying the sculptures and shade of the trees as he went. Finally, he saw Feli.

He was sitting on the lawn at a table under an umbrella. He was wearing yet another of his Armani Suits. On the table lay a pack of cigarettes, an ashtray, a glass of white wine, and a bottle of bubble soap.

His tie was loose around his neck, and his shirt was undone halfway down his deliciously moist chest. Ludwig swallowed heavily.

He held a burning cigarette in one hand, and was gently petting a baby lamb with the other. Fettuccine, the cat, was batting her paw nearby at a butterfly.

He watched with shaking eyes as Feli took a deep drag of his cigarette; blowing the smoke out slowly through his pursed lips. He shook his head, and approached his friend.

Amber eyes, heavy with pleasure, shifted his direction and brightened, "Hi Germany! Please, sit down!" he pushed the opposite hair out for him with his foot.

Fettuccine perked her ears. When she saw that it was Ludwig, she stiffened, remembering her awful encounter with his golden retriever, and scampered away in fright. He smirked, 'Serves you right,' he thought.

Ludwig sat down, trying not to notice the way the sunlight caught Feliciano's coppery locks.

Feli grinned, "It feels like it's been months since I've seen you!"

"It _has_ been months, Feli."

The Italian man closed his eyes in his usual manner and blushed, "You're right! I had forgotten. I love being home for the summer so much I just lose track of time! You know me."

Ludwig nodded and smiled. He did know him. "Is this all you've been doing with yourself this summer? I don't pretend to think you've been exercising like I keep telling you to do."

Feli took a puff of his cigarette, "I did go for a very long walk the other day! That's CARDIO." He responded proudly. He stuck his cigarette in mouth, offering the box to Ludwig.

He accepted, lighting it and taking a quick inhale.

Feli reached under his seat to a little red cooler, pulling out a bottle of Heineken for his German friend.

Ludwig sighed in gratitude and twisted the top off quickly, gulping down the beverage with gusto. "_Danke_. It's too damn hot here, you know."

Feliciano's eyes glazed over as he watched a stray droplet of beer slither down Ludwig's chin. He bit his lip and wiggled his bum in his chair. He turned his attention back to the little lamb now tugging at his sleeve for pats. "Isn't he a cutie? His name is Mustardseed! Poland thinks I should have ponies too, what do you think?"

Ludwig scoffed, "I think your yard is beginning to resemble a petting zoo. I'm pretty sure I passed a peacock on my way in."

Italy only laughed once again, "Isn't he magnificent? He was a gift from China." He tangled his fingers in the lamb's curly fleece, "Would you like to pet him, Ludwig? He's very friendly!" He gently ushered the lamb over to the German man who suddenly seemed very uncomfortable.

The little animal 'mahhhed' and placed his hooves over the arm rest. Awkwardly, Germany stroked the lamb's soft ear. It blinked its glassy eyes curiously, and trotted back to the Italian man who exuded much more joy.

Feli took a sip of his wine, "Hmm…I had to tell Fratello that I was going on a business trip to America today. He's so silly! Sometimes I think he thinks you have some sort of secret plan to murder me!"

Germany's cheeks went aflame 'I might not want to kill you…but what I do want to do with you isn't wholly innocent either.' He cleared his throat, "He's just protective. It's nice your brother cares so much about you. I almost wish Gilbert was as worried about me sometimes."

"Oh, but Gilbert loves you a lot! He just knows that you don't need him to be worried about you. You can take care of yourself."

"Did he…tell you that?"

Italy sipped his wine, "No. But when I look into his eyes I can see!"

Ludwig smiled, and his heart swelled up painfully. 'Oh Italy, you make me so happy…'

Mustardseed pranced off to play with the other animals, leaving Italy with a free hand. "Ooh! Wanna see something neat?" He picked out the bubble wand from his bottle of soap, his cigarette in his opposite hand. He took in a mouthful of the smoke, sucking his cheeks in tight, and positioning his lips over the dipped wand. Gently, he blew a bubble, the cigarette smoke swirling within the round, pliant prison.

"Doesn't it look like a crystal ball?" He blew three more smoky bubbles. "Maybe they can tell us the future! Wouldn't it be fun to know the future, Ludwig?"

Ludwig wet his finger and caught one of the bubbles, "I think we've BOTH been alive long enough to have seen just about all there is to see. Whatever's going to happen in the future has already happened before."

Feli blew a raspberry at his stoic companion, "Don't be a Negative Nancy, Luddy!" He put out his cigarette, and gulped down the last of his wine, "Anyway, I wanted to show you my new sculpture! I think I want it by the willow pond, but I wanted your opinion." He stood up, and pulled Germany along with him.

It took longer than it should have to actually get to the willow pond, since Feli kept stopping to pick flowers, and chase butterflies, and admire his other sculptures along the way. Eventually, they did reach it.

It was a smaller pond with a huge weeping willow that dipped its branches into the water. Lily pads floated on the glassy surface, and dragonflies hovered and zipped along it, leaving tiny wakes where their wings would barely grace the water.

Ludwig was surprised to see that there was not one statue, but two. The first was of a young man. He looked sea washed, his shirt wrinkled and clinging to his skin. His hair hung in limp tendrils around his face. He sat by the edge of the water, one arm propped casually across his knee. He didn't seem to be looking at much of anything.

The second statue rose from the pond itself. A beautiful mermaid sat on a rock, facing the young man. Her elegant tail curled around the face of the rock, arching out of the water so the viewer could see its full magnificence. One of her hands clutched at her heart, while the other concealed her mouth. Her face was etched in sorrow and despair. Ludwig understood her pain. To be so close to the one she loved, but unable to help their utter incompatibility.

Feli sat on the bank, looking lovingly at his work, "I just love the story of The Little Mermaid. She loved the Prince enough to die for him…"

Ludwig looked down harshly on him, "She was foolish, and made a foolish decision."

Feli tensed, "But Ludwig! To love is to burn! To be on fire! She acted passionately, in the name of love."

"She met a rather pathetic end, Feli."

"Pathetic? To die for love? What could be more glorious?"

Ludwig was quiet, and crouched down next to Feliciano, "…A lot of things Feli…What about Romeo and Juliet? They died in vain. If they had been more careful and thought things through, they wouldn't have had to die."

Feli frown, and snuggled closer to the German, "But they were young, and they were in love. That's the tragedy of it all. They couldn't have thought things through."

"…What are you saying, Feli? That it's ok to not think things through? That it's ok to die if it's in the name of love?"

Feli frantically shook his head, "No! I-I just mean that…well…Sometimes, if you think too much…you might miss something wonderful…Because, love is a blind emotion…a-and, it doesn't work like a machine that needs all the right parts…"

Germany gulped, and slowly turned to look at Italy. Feli was leaning closer. His eyes were glittering. His lower lip was pouting. He was so…beautiful…and…

He turned away. "Your sculpture is nice. Leave it where it is." He stood up and brushed off his pants, "Thank you for showing me. I have to get back home."

Feli nearly bolted up, "You're leaving? B-but you only just got here! Stay for dinner, at least!"

'If I stay for ten minutes longer you'll be ravished beyond recognition, you idiot…' he thought heatedly. "Thank you, but no. I have work to catch up on."

"Please don't leave like this," Feliciano begged. 'Please don't ruin all my plans…I spent so long laying out all those rose petals and buying all those candles for my room…'

"I'll come and see you next week. _Aufwiedersein._" He broke out into a quick jog back towards the house.

Feliciano sat back down, gazing at his beautiful mermaid princess. He wished he could trade his own two lanky appendages for a shimmering mermaid's tail and live at the bottom of the ocean with no worries about love's pain. This must have been the pain she felt. He knew that the heartbroken expression on her stony face mirrored his own.

Ten minutes later, Anna pulled up near the pond in the golf cart. "_Signore_…Ludwig has gone."

"_Si…_" he responded glumly.

She knelt next to him, and patted his back, "I'm so sorry, sir...Maybe another time…"

He rested his now teary cheek on his knees, "No…Ludwig won't accept me…He's too afraid to…I see that now…"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"That absolute moron!" Elizabeta slammed her glass of chilled palinka* hard onto the tiled floor of the spa. The steaming, perfumed water churned around her, quelling with her frustration.

Feli, sitting across from her in the bath, swirled the water with his finger, looking every bit the part of the rejected lover. He pressed himself further into the polished granite edge of the basin, wanting to feel steady. "I don't understand…I thought I did everything right! Why doesn't he love me, sister? I don't understand!"

The Hungarian woman waded over to her darling Italian, slipping her arms around his naked torso, "My poor baby! That damn German…what an idiot! It must be a family trait. Damn stupid German brothers ruining our lives!"

"Huh? Did Ludwig hurt your feelings too?"

Elizabeta blushed and splashed hot water over her cheeks to disguise it, "No, I meant Gilbert. He's just…He…well, you know!"

Feliciano smirked and played with tresses of her hair, "Not really, what am I supposed to know about him? He's always been real nice to me! Has he been mean to you?"

"He's just infuriating! Always messing around, spying on me, his…stupid noises! He's just annoying!"

The Italian giggled, "I've always thought all his weird sounds were funny! Doesn't he make you laugh, sister?"

She frowned and disentangled herself from him. She plucked her tub of seaweed scrub from the edge of the bath and set to work massaging his calves, "We're not here to talk about me and Gilbert. We're talking about you and Ludwig. I mean really, refusing my adorable Feli! Unforgivable. We must have a better plan of attack."

Feli hummed in satisfaction as Elizabeta scrubbed away his dead skin. A spa date had been the perfect idea. Nobody had a better personal spa than Hungary, after all. He laid his head on the stone ridge behind him, gazing up at her painted ceiling. Fluttering fairies and butterflies danced with bare bottomed cherubs in a sky of swirling clouds.

Feli stared at the chubby rounded faces of the tiny angels with soft blond curls and crystalline eyes. He thought back to a similar youthful face…one now long dead…one that haunted his heart…

"Feli? Darling, are you crying? Oh, please don't cry anymore, my love. We'll get that sausage sucker, just you wait," Hungary assured him, setting the scrub aside to stroke his copper hair.

"I wasn't crying about Ludwig…Eli…Do you remember 1806?"

Hungary ceased her stroking of his hair, frozen. "Feli…please, don't think about him…about what happened then anymore. You're alright now."

He lowered his eyes, golden orbs glittering in solemnity, "I was dead to the world for nearly a century, Eli. It's hard to just forget."

"But you're ALRIGHT now!"

"I didn't fall that day. In the Adriatic Sea. I jumped."

Hey green eyes drooped, "I…I sort of always figured that you had. Austria never wanted to think you would actually do something like that. He never fully believed you were anything more than his little boy…"

Italy cupped his hands, letting the water trail between his squeezed fingers. "I took the boat out that day…and I jumped right off of it. I put rocks in my pockets and everything."

She smiled a little, "Ever the romantic…following your lover to the gates of the underworld…"

He smiled, "I'm not exactly the best Orpheus, am I? Never even made it halfway. Just got kind of…stuck. Stuck going back and forth across the borders of life and death. I remember being so sad…sad all the time…crying every hour of every day. Sitting like a crybaby at the bottom of the ocean, unable to fully die. Then, one day I woke and…I decided I wanted to live. I kicked my way to the surface, went home, only to find out there was a World War waiting for me."

Elizabeta could see him…lying underneath the waves, mourning his love, being the thoroughly theatrical being he had always been. Only an Italian would spend a century grieving.

"But, I woke up exactly when I should have." Feli rubbed his shoulders, grinning ear to ear, "I was able to meet Ludwig! And I just know that Holy Rome gave me a sign that day. He wants me to live, and be happy! And I so want to be happy, sister! I love Ludwig so much!"

She seized his foot and began buffing his toenails, "Well, stop moping about the past and think! We've got to figure out a way to get the idiot to sleep with you. It seems it's the only thing he'll understand."

Feliciano 'hmphed' and crossed his arms, "I've been trying for years, and nothing works! Singing, food, hugs, kisses, nothing! I should just face it Hungary, even if he does love me the same way, he's too afraid to be with me."

She gulped her drink, puckering her cheeks in, "Maybe because you've been thinking too much like an Italian. Remember dear, Germany is your POLAR opposite. Maybe it's time we thought more like…a German."

He cocked his head, "…Like…how? Should I wear a suit made of sausages? I might be able to get Signore Armani to design one for me!"

Elizabeta turned a deep shade of burgundy, "No. But…I think maybe we…might need Gilbert's help if we're going to get Ludwig to sleep with you."

**A/N: My apologies for the short chapter. Rest assured, the next will be finished relatively quickly, since I'm going on vacation, and will have more time for pleasure activities. **

***palinka- a Hungarian drink. Fruity Rum. **

**Hungary is famous for its thermal waters and spas are very popular there. I thought it an appropriate setting for Eli and Feli's "girl talk."**

**You're probably wondering about the whole "Adriatic Sea" thing. I always thought it was kind of strange in the show how Germany and Italy had JUST MET at the start of WWI. All the other countries seemed to know each other except those two. **

**I liked the idea of Feliciano being so stricken with grief that he kills himself. After, he is Italian, and we all think of "Romeo and Juliet" when we think of Italy and romance…so…yeah. **

**So, if you were confused, the idea was that Italy was half drowned at the bottom of the Adriatic Sea from the time period between the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire and the start of WWI. Explaining why he had never beforehand met Germany. Was it a dumb idea? Let me know. I was unsure myself if it would make sense, but given the continuity of how death works in the Hetalia universe, I wouldn't say I'm too far out there. **


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm naked_

_I'm numb_

_I'm stupid_

_I'm staying_

_And if cupid's got a gun, then he's shooting_

_-"Until We Bleed," Andreas Kleerup_

Loud cries of passion and whispered words of tenderness emanated from the cracked door of the Spanish bedroom. Feliciano listened in keen interest as his brother screamed in their native language.

"_Spain! More! I love you! I love you!"_

It wasn't his interest in the sexual activities no doubt taking place behind the door. Rather, his somber happiness at hearing Lovino be so vocal about his feelings.

Even when they were children, he suspected his brother's anger at him; his jealousy at being second best in Grandpa Rome's eyes, his frustration with his younger brother being the favored in Spain's eyes, at first anyway…

He also noticed the great deal of love Lovino had for him. He constantly desired to see him, wanting to be one nation again.

But Feliciano knew that Lovino was only capable of saying "I love you" to one. And that was Spain. It was a shame that it was only with the confines of a bedroom that it was ever heard from him; he said it so honestly, without a hint of redundancy.

Feli slunk away from the door, preferring to sit outside by the tomato field. Judging by the volume of Lovino's cries, he knew he wouldn't have to wait too much longer.

"Oi! When did you get here, stupido?" Lovino emerged from the porch door with his buttons crooked and a flushed expression.

Feliciano turned and smiled, "Big Brother! It's so good to see you!" He rushed in for a hug.

Lovino held him back, but only just so, "Idiot, it's only been three days." Something ignited in his eyes, and he met his brother's eyes, "By the way, how did that meeting with America go?"

Feli grinned nervously, "Fine! It's always fun to visit Mr. America! His house is so interesting, isn't it?"

"What was your meeting about, again?"

Feli played with his hair, trying to come up with something to say, "He…wanted some advice…on…how to improve _Pizza Hut_ recipes! He thinks they're too commercial and wanted some authentic Italian recipes!"

Lovino glared darkly at his younger sibling, "Really? Because I heard from Spain, who heard from France that he's been staying with ENGLAND the past two weeks. Isn't that interesting?"

The young Italian gulped.

Lovino stalked forward menacingly, "So, care to tell me where you were ACTUALLY?"

"I was at home, I promise fratello!"

He fished in his back pocket for his cell phone, "Who was with you?

Feliciano sat on the grass, nervously plucking daisies, "…Anna."

"Who else?" He started punching in numbers.

Feliciano shook his head, "Lovino, please don't call anyone! Germany didn't even stay for very long!"

The elder Vargas snorted and nodded sharply, "I knew it. I knew it." He lifted the phone to his ear, "Tony, I need to put a hit out per favore-"

A sun kissed hand shot out from behind him, snatching the phone away, "Mi princessa, you know that isn't very nice." Antonio pocketed the device, smiling warmly at Feli, "Hola Feliciano! I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you when you came in. Lovi and I were a little busy," he wrapped his arms around his blushing lover.

Feliciano giggled, "Hi Big Brother Spain! I just wanted to spend a little time with fratello, but if you guys are still busy, I understand."

Lovino wiggled out of Antonio's grip, punching him in the stomach, "Don't be stupid. What do you want to do?"

Feli plopped yet another daisy crown onto his brother's head, humming 'La Traviata' under his breath.

Lovino tried to act disinterested, suppressing his smile at his younger sibling's flower weaving. It reminded him of the few precious occasions they were allowed together as children; games of hide and seek, in which Feli always got scared and peed his pants as soon as he found a hiding place. Throwing bread crumbs to ducks, Lovino scaring them away after his frustration at them only accepting treats from Feli. Feliciano would make him a crown of daisies, or gardenias or morning glories after Lovino found he was unable to lace the stems together.

"Stop it, already. I'm getting pollen in my hair." He lightly pushed Feli away.

The addressed turned his head, looking across the tomato field at the setting sun, "Summer is so nice, fratello. Tomatoes never taste so good…"

Lovino grinned, and leaned back a little on Feli's shoulder, "That's true."

It was then that Antonio emerged from the porch, wiping his hands on a rag, "Lovi! Feli! I made dinner!"

Feli's head shot up, "Oh my goodness! I forgot! I was supposed to meet with Miss Hungary and Gilbert!" He grabbed his jacket from the dirt and leapt to his feet, "I'll see you later, fratello! Bye Spain!"

Antonio waved enthusiastically as the little Italian raced to his Ferrari. "Always late for something, no?"

Lovino sighed, twiddling with the flower crown, "He's an idiot. Always has been, always will be."

"You could be a little nicer to him, princessa. After all, he loves you the most." The Spaniard plopped down on the grass beside him.

"Not as much as he loves that damn potato bastard. You should have let me finish that call."

"Your Mafioso has never been able to get him and you know it. Besides, Germany has never done anything to you, Lovi. Stop being so jealous, carriedo."

Lovino shot up from his seat, "Jealous? JEALOUS? Is that what you think this is about?" His eyes welled up with frustrated tears. "You don't know anything about anything!" he turned to race back inside.

Antonio grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him back in, "What are you talking about? What's this all about?"

He struggled against Antonio's grip, "That German asshole is no good for my brother! He's a crazy Nazi!"

"Enough of that! What has he ever done to hurt Italy? This attitude of yours isn't good for Feli OR you. Can't you just let it go?"

His face was blazing scarlet in frustration and distress. He wrenched his elbow free, shakily retaking his seat on the soft ground. "You don't know how horrible it is to lose someone you care about, bastard."

Antonio sat beside him, resting his arm around his lover's shoulders, "I almost lost you to Turkey once…I know how horrible it feels."

"No you don't. That's not the same. I was missing for an hour. My bambino fratello was missing for 100 years."

Green eyes drooped, "Lovi…"

"Don't tell me to forget about it. I don't CARE that he's fine now, he wasn't fine then! And don't give me that shit about 'It was an accident,' that little idiot MEANT to do it! All because of some idiotic teenager that nobody even remembers!"

He paused and took a breath, swallowing heavily, "He just can't help himself…He put too much of himself in that boy, and when he died, what else was there for him to do but join him? That's just how he thinks. Well I won't let it happen again. I'm keeping my baby brother, and fuck the potato bastard that's only going to make him try to kill himself again."

"Lovi…"

"Shut up. Go bring me my dinner."

Elizaveta slurped her beer slowly, puckering her mouth in distaste. Each and every time she would insist to herself that drinking beer was macho, and she herself being very tough and macho, she would enjoy drinking it.

Nope. However many times she tried, it never tasted like anything other than watery horse piss.

"Lizzy! It's so awesome to see you!" The eccentric Prussian entered the cozy German pub, catching familiar glances from the more regular patrons. Some gave a 'whoop!' of recognition; others shrank into their drinks quietly, suddenly regretting their choice of this particular bar.

Gilbert plopped down in an empty seat next to her, "I knew you missed me! I got your call, and I wasn't even surprised! Poor Lizzie, waiting so long to see the awesome me! You must feel so deprived!" he slung an arm over her shoulders, hugging her tight and tucking her head under his chin

His 'Kesesesese' rumbled in his chest, tickling her ear, his tie digging into her cheek. She smiled despite herself. "Hey, Gil. Good to see you too."

He banged his fist against the oaken table, shouting in German to the bartender. Eli could make out 'Two pints' and 'Jaeger', but whatever else he said couldn't have been very polite, considering the look on the bartender's face.

She took another sip of her beer. 'Gross' she thought, but put on her confident face. "How's your brother?"

He groaned, "Being a prick, as usual. Buried alive in his work, just like he likes. He came back from Italy's house the other day, and wouldn't come out of his room. He's so stupid, why doesn't he just fuck him already? "

Eli threw her hands up in exasperation, "That's EXACTLY what I say! And as a matter of fact, that's kind of the reason I need to talk to you."

"Oh my God, Lizzie, are we scheming? Because you know how much I love scheming. When was the last time we schemed together? I can't even remember it's been so long!" Gilbert began tapping the heels of his boots rapidly against the floor boards, practically panting at the prospect of causing mayhem.

"Calm down. Nothing spectacular, I'm sorry to say. I just need some advice."

His devious grin dimmed, "You're asking me for…advice? What the fuck? I'm not really the go-to advice guy. Why didn't you ask Roddy?"

Roderich. She really didn't want to be reminded of him while she was talking to Gilbert…it brought on too much guilt.

Back then, even though it was an arranged marriage, she convinced herself that Austria would be her one, true love. She would adopt the lady ideal of a fairy tale wedding come true, and he would be perfect, and she would be perfect, and they would love each other until the end of time.

And then of course came the messy divorce, and all the while Elizaveta began to realize that maybe she was never really in love with him at all. And guiltily, she found herself thinking back on a mop of silver hair and blood red eyes, belonging to a little boy who was the first person to ever show her any real concern.

"You're Ludwig's brother. I was hoping you could tell us how to get him excited…you know…sexually? For Feli?"

The bartender slammed two pints of beer and six shots of Jaeger on their table before loping off, grumbling something incoherent. Gilbert downed a shot, "Like I haven't tried before! This one time, at Oktoberfest, I dressed Ita-chan up like a German barmaid, hoping it would get him excited, but he just ended up leaving early. I don't know what his problem is! It's like he doesn't _want_ to get laid!"

He offered her a shot, which she excepted, ignoring the horrible burning in her throat after she swallowed it, "Maybe…Hmm…Ludwig…has he ever had any relationships before? Mortal or otherwise?"

Gilbert looked shocked, "You think I would let mein bruderlien sleep with a human? What kind of brother do you think I am? No, no, no, no…I think we all know how disasterous that turns out to be."

She nodded solemnly, "Consider this, maybe he isn't sure if he can take Feli seriously. He is a bit of a flirt…maybe he just needs confirmation of Feli being really committed."

Gilbert gulped down his pint, "Awww, we're gonna do this all serious like? That's not sexy at all! I had this idea: we get a 40 gallon beer mug, fill it up, and make Ita-chan swim around in it!" Drool spilled from the corners of his mouth.

"Gil, this is true love we're talking about!"

"Yeah! And what is true love without a ridiculously sexy beer bath? C'mon Lizzie, you know it would awesome!"

The front door to the bar swung open, revealing a grinning, albeit sweaty, Italian. "Sorry I'm late! I was hanging out with Lovino, and I lost track of time!" he rushed over to their table, "Hi Gilbert! Hi Eli!"

The Prussian blushed slightly, making Elizaveta pout in indignation. However slight a crush it was, it still bugged her to no end.

"Hi, Feli. I need you to listen very carefully, because Gil and I may have a plan to help you with Germany."

"And it involves you needing to have a very awesomely sexy swimsuit."

**A/N: I actually intended to have this posted LAST NIGHT, but I had to put it on hold, because I got evacuated from my school. Sooo, reporting to you live from my hotel room! **

**I'm totally ready for the sex next chapter, are you? I know you are, it's only what you've been waiting for this entire time. **

**For those of you on the East Coast, like me, please be safe during the storm! **


	6. Chapter 6

The summer was nearly over. With the slowly cooling temperature came the slow cooling of Germany's temperance. Soon, Italy would return to Germany. He would be whiny for the first few days, unhappy about the loss of fireflies, of ripe tomatoes, and sunbathing.

The garlic cloves would begin to pile up in his pantry, and pots of pasta would sit simmering alongside his bubbling wurts.

Long stemmed, waxy lilies would begin to peep out from every corner of the house in delicate crystal cut vases. Puccini would float sweetly through the house, as opposed to the usual Wagner which blasted and rattled the furniture.

He would prepare one of the guest rooms, knowing full well that Italy would instead be occupying his bed. Funny, even in Italy's inconsistencies, Germany had found a very happy rhythm in his oldest friend.

It had been several weeks since his visit to the Sculpture Garden, and found that he was no longer on edge from sexual frustration. He slipped comfortably back into his regime, which even he admitted didn't consist of very much without Feliciano. Paperwork, exercise, grocery shopping, walking the dogs, and occasionally reading a pleasure novel was about the extent of his activities.

Germany sat crossed legged in his favorite armchair in his library with his very favorite book propped in his lap. Unbeknownst to most, it was a copy of The Brothers Grimm fairy tales. He considered himself very fortunate to own a first edition copy. He had just begun reading the story of Sleeping Beauty when his peace of mind was suddenly expunged by the telephone. Carefully, he tucked the fold of the books paper cover to mark his page and answered it, "Hallo?"

"Germany! Germany! It's Ita-" The chatter was abruptly cut off, as though someone had elbowed him in the ribs. I heard a brief throat clearing, and then he started again, "Hi Germany. What are you doing tonight?"

His brow furrowed. This had to be the calmest he had ever heard the exuberant Italian sound, "Nothing, I suppose. Why?"

He heard Feli take a few cleansing breathes before continuing, "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight? I fixed up the dining room, and I finished another painting, and it complements the theme of the room so nicely I thought that you might want to see it! It's really so spectacular-" There was another startled pause , he cleared his throat, and continued. "Ahem, anyway, you should come over. Is seven o'clock ok?"

Now, this was unusual. Feli was never one to cut himself off in the midst of his chatter. "Um, sure. Seven is fine. Are you feeling alright today?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be? See you tonight. Ciao." There was a click, and the line went dead.

How very odd…How very odd indeed…

* * *

><p>Feliciano hung up the phone and let out a repressed screech. Behind him, Austria smacked the back of his head, "I thought we agreed you were going to be totally and completely calm and collected the entire phone call."<p>

Italy growled in frustration, "I tried! But whenever I hear him talk I just get so excited, and I can't help but talk and talk and talk because there are so many things I want to say to him, only sometimes I think he doesn't hear a thing I say…"

Roderich rolled his eyes and adjusted the cuff on his sleeve, "That is no excuse. It's really no wonder your advances have been so decidedly rejected time and again. Ludwig doesn't appreciate anything that is not straight to the point. Perhaps if you didn't express yourself in such roundabout ways, he might understand you."

Italy blinked, and heaved his chest in restraint, "I think I could change for him…if he wanted me to…but I don't think I want to…"

The door to the terrace opened, and Hungary stepped out tentatively, "So, how did the call go? Did he say yes?"

The young red head nodded, "He'll be here at seven. I think I'll go pick some Dahlias for the table before I start cooking. I wonder, does pasta seem too frivolous? Maybe Chicken Florentine would be better for dinner…" He trailed off, talking to himself as he stepped out into the garden.

Elizabeta eased herself onto an outdoor pouf, "Are you sure this is the best way to go about this, Roderich? I don't think it's at all romantic."

He scoffed, "Feliciano is far too flirtatious. Ludwig won't accept him because he doesn't believe him to be serious. If Feliciano is straightforward and honest about his intentions, Ludwig will have sex with him. A simple solution. It's too ridiculous that his qualms were not addressed sixty years ago."

Elizabeta curled the corners of her mouth downwards. It was no mystery to her why their marriage had never flourished. Everything was too cut and dry. Though admittedly, perhaps being blunt and honest was the best way to reach Ludwig's attention. Then again, maybe she should have taken Gilbert's suggestion after all.

* * *

><p>Ludwig arrived at promptly seven o'clock. He supposed the last person on earth that would care if he was late would be Feliciano, but he couldn't help his incessant desire for perfection. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't a bit concerned about their earlier conversation over the phone; He sounded so desperate to contain his usual enthusiasm. It had him missing his typical exuberance.<p>

He walked up the all too familiar path towards the inviting Italian villa. The sun was just setting below the dusky clouds. His eyes settled once again on Feliciano's balcony, now bathed in soft candlelight from the bedroom. He thought briefly on his 'Romeo and Juliet' fantasy, than shook his head to clear it.

He rang the doorbell, which was answered by Anna, the housekeeper. She smiled, but her eyes were lacking their genuineness, "Good evening, Signore Ludwig. Signore Vargas is waiting in the music room."

She showed him in, then turned toward the door again to leave, "I'm afraid that I'm now finished for the day. I hope you both have a pleasant evening." She curtsied, and exited.

Everything about this dinner arrangement was getting stranger and stranger. He walked through the high ceilinged hallways. Golden framed mirrors lined the walls along with paintings of flowering fields, prancing horses, voluptuous women wrapped in gauze like sheets lounging on beds of velvet. The scent of roses and lavender wafted through rooms, the dim golden candlelight gave the entire household an air of luxury and romance.

He heard excited, stumbling footsteps ambling towards him, before they shuffled and shifted to a more controlled pace. Italy emerged from the music room, his lips quivering in the corners, as though to restrain a grin. "Ciao, Ludwig. I'm glad you could make it. Dinner is ready in the dining room."

Ludwig let Feli lead the way, taking note of his upright posture and stiff leg movements. A beautiful dinner was laid for them: Chicken Florentine, mountains of dewy red and green grapes, plates of sliced cheese, and a bucket full of crushed ice with a bottle of Rosé.

He seated himself as Feliciano also plopped down on a cushioned Mahogany chair. "This looks delicious," Ludwig remarked, "I can't remember the last time you cooked something that wasn't pasta."

Feliciano smiled awkwardly, "I thought it would be nice to have something summery before the season was over. Chicken Florentine really isn't acceptable to eat during the winter, I find it's just too light..," He trailed off before falling silent again, and stuffing his mouth with a few grapes.

Ludwig ate a slice of the buttery, flaky encrusted chicken. He looked at the northern wall and noticed a newer looking painting, "Could that be the painting you were telling me about earlier?"

Feli turned to look in the direction that Ludwig was. It was of a choppy ocean, deep navy blues and grays swirled to together to create a turbulent, stormy ambiance. A tiny rowboat was bobbing perilously in the waves, its rower conspicuously absent. Italy turned back around to face his dinner, "Yeah…I think I might move it to the attic later. I don't think I like it very much after all."

Ludwig squinted, trying to assess it better, "It's lovely, but there's something wanting in it…there seems to be a good deal of sadness in the languidness of the brushstrokes…almost heartbroken…muted…"

Feliciano shrugged dismissively, focusing on chewing.

The rest of dinner passed awkwardly. Ludwig would occasionally try to strike up conversation, but Feliciano always answered curtly, politely, and then would revert back into silence. There were several moments that Ludwig could swear he was on the verge of tears.

When the meal was over, and Ludwig was in the midst of complimenting his friend on the excellence of the cooking, Feliciano finally looked up with determination definite in his face. He cleared his throat several times, blinked, then said in quite a loud voice, "Ludwig, I want you to have sex with me."

The German chocked on his air, turned a bright shade of crimson, and sputtered out, "W-what? Feli, you-you can't just say things like that! You'll give me a heart attack!"

Feli's eyes watered, "But I'm not just saying it. I want us to have sex. I've been wanting to have sex with you for some time," He paused, unsure, "Am I…so unappealing?"

Ludwig could hardly breathe. He felt like his throat was closing up. His stomach felt like it had been liquefied. He wasn't ready for this! He couldn't deal with this, not now! "Feliciano…Listen, you're a very attractive person, and we've been friends for a long time, so you must know why we shouldn't have sex with each other."

The petite Italian was struggling to maintain control of his voice, "Ludwig…please listen to me. I love you more than I thought it possible I could love ever again. You are so good, and so gentle, and sometimes I think that even though you are very strong and tough on the outside, on the inside you are very nervous and shy. We get along so well, even though we are very different, and I always that as different as we are, we could find similarities between ourselves to remain very good friends."

He gasped for air and continued, "Do you hear me Ludwig? I love you. I have loved you for a century now, and every minute I love you more. Did you know, an hour ago, I thought I loved you more than anyone could ever love another, but half an hour after that I realized that that was nothing compared to what I felt for you then. And ten minutes after that I realized that _that_ love was but a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm. Your eyes are like that, did you know? Well, they are."

"There is no room in my body for anything but you. My arms love you, my ears adore your voice, my knees shake with blind affection for you. Do you want me to follow you into oblivion? I will do that for you. I will be quiet for you, or I will sing for you."

His resolve broke then, and the tears came, "Oh god, Ludwig, please tell me that I have a chance to win your love?"

The minutes passed by as slow as centuries for Ludwig. His heart quivered in his chest. Feliciano was not enamored with him, he was not in lust with him, he was not a nymph, or a tease, or silly or any of those things. He was _in love_ with him. He meant it. At that moment the world was a beautiful place to be. At that moment he felt that he would die from happiness.

Slowly, the taller reached out to Italy. "Italy…We're both so foolish."

Those were not the words Italy had wanted to hear, and the tears continued to fall.

The German shook his new found lover slightly, "I didn't believe in you because I didn't think it possible for you to love someone, not really. I underestimated you Feli, and for that I am so very sorry. But I promise I will make it up to you. I don't think we'll have to involve politics in this, do you? No, no, of course we won't. Very well then, we can make this a purely personal merging. That's all we need, isn't it?"

Feliciano stopped his sniveling, slowly starting to comprehend what was being said, "Do you love me, Ludwig? Is that it?"

Germany felt as though his chest would bust, "Do I love you? DO I LOVE YOU? Mein Gott, if your love were but a speck of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches! If your love were but a blade of grass, mine would be-"

"I don't understand the first one yet," Feliciano interrupted, now getting very excited, "Are you saying that my love is a grain of sand? Because it's not! I thought I told you very clearly how great my love was, and now you're trying to make it seem so small! It really doesn't seem-"

"Oh Feliciano _please_ stop talking!" And before his mind could understand what he was doing, he crushed his lips to the little Italian's with a passion that he didn't think he was capable of displaying without restraint.

Feliciano moaned happily, reaching up grasp Ludwig's neck. Ludwig in turn held Feli's waist tightly, and cradled the back of his copper head. Their tongues twirled and embraced and slid along one another in a way that only made both men press closer to one another.

Feliciano was rubbing himself ever so slightly along Ludwig's body, letting out delighted little squeaks and gasps as they kissed. Something then snapped in the German. Something he hadn't felt since the days of the Third Reich. The surge of strength, the overwhelming desire to conquer and possess and ravage and impress burst inside his head. It was overtaxing.

He ripped Feliciano's shirt from his pants, tearing at the folds until the pearly buttons popped and scattered around their feet, his torn shirt falling shortly after.

Italy released Germany's mouth in surprise when he felt the air brush against his bare chest, his golden Crucifix bouncing against his sternum. Ludwig gave him little time to gape as he hoisted him up once more, forcing Feliciano to wrap his legs around his trim waist, his teeth viciously attacking the junction of his neck and shoulder.

The Italian cried out in pleasure; these new, incredible sensations washing over him like a rain storm. He soon found his back thrust against a wall, several paintings rattled on their nails with the force of the blow. Ludwig was blind to everything but Feliciano; His beautiful, loving, warm Feliciano.

On his skin he could taste the sunlight, the gentle Mediterranean breeze, the pollen of flowers, was that a hint of saltwater? Ah well, not important.

Feliciano started when he felt Ludwig's groping fingers at his pants, prying at his belt buckle. "W-wait…Ludwig…"

Germany could barely clear the haze from his brain to hear his lover, "Hmm? What?"

"I don't want to…lose my virginity…in the dining room—Ahh!"

Ludwig laughed as Feli bucked against him, "Really? I thought it appropriate. Food and love surmises Italy after all, doesn't it?"

Feliciano was too desperate and starved for love to appreciate the humor, "Pleeeaaasse Ludwig? I decorated my room so nicely."

His muddled mind flashed back to his favorite fantasy involving the balcony, and he thought briefly on asking Feliciano to play it out for him, but then decided against it, as they were both to eager for one another to waste any more time. Enough time had been wasted already.

He yanked Feliciano up, him struggling to find his way upstairs to the bedroom. He was glad to see the door already open, scattered rose petals spilling across the entryway.

The room must have been lit with sixty different candles, most of them circled around the small shrine to the Virgin Mary in the corner. It was endearing to see how spiritual and beautiful he expected this meeting to be.

Glass vases filled with roses and forget-me-nots and rodendrums stood regally on every available flat surface, from the nightstand, to the desk, to the bookcase. Petals lay strewn across the plush carpet and the fluffy queen sized bed, the covers pulled back in one corner in expectation of the couple. The glass doors leading out to the balcony were left open, a light summer breeze billowing the gossamer white curtains.

Ludwig flung Feliciano upon the downy mattress, him sinking into its comfort. As Feli wriggled in delight on the bed, Ludwig relieved himself of his own clothing. He looked down on Feliciano, his bright eyes of molten gold were welling up with tears again, "I'm so happy this is happening. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up from a pretty dream any minute."

Germany's icy eyes lidded lightly, and he nuzzled Italy's nose with his own, "I love you." He laid a kiss upon his cheek, "I love you." He laid another lightly on his mouth, "I love you…"

Feli wrapped his legs around him, "Will you show me?"

Any remaining clothing between them was whisked away. Feli lied pressed into the goose feather pillows in anticipation, his legs spread wide like a flower to the sun.

Ludwig delicately slid himself inside Feliciano's tight heat, a groan of bliss on his lips. As soon as he was fully seated, he was bombarded with a multitude of sensations. It was as though the sun was beating down upon his face, Bird's twittered in his ears, the earth squelched beneath his toes, wind whipped at his hair. Then, something strange…there was water everywhere. It was burning in his nose, flooding into his open mouth, it sloshed into his lungs, it seeped behind his closed eyelids. This invisible sea swelled all around him.

When he opened his eyes again, Feliciano was moaning and panting beneath him, bucking his hips upwards, begging for attention. Ludwig remembered himself, and thrust in deeply, earning another scream of pleasure.

Ludwig rocked against the sweet cushion of Feliciano's ass, his coltish legs flailing behind them. They pressed their chests together and meshed mouths and gripped at each other's faces and hips and shoulders. Feli left tiny crescent shaped welts in Ludwig's back from his fingernails.

When they came, it was perfectly timed and synchronized. Feliciano's eyes blinked open and his breath hitched when he felt Ludwig's seed inside of him. He constricted around him, and Ludwig shuddered in exhaustion.

The larger male fell upon the smaller, whispering in German against his neck, pressing lazy kisses and flicks of his tongue. Italy smiled gently, and petted Ludwig's sleek, untidy blonde strands. He rolled over slightly, Ludwig protesting, and crushing his slender form against his chest. He giggled, and pulled the comforter over the both of them, "Ti amo molto, mio tessoro…"

Germany dazedly laid against his lover, surrendering to sleep, and thinking briefly on the sensation of drowning…

**A/N: **_Well? Was it worth the wait? I hope so. This was my first sex scene! How was it? Good I hope. I am sorry about the tremendous amount of time this took, but college is horrible when it comes to taking up your time. Anyway, thank you for your patience, and thank you for your reviews! They are my inspiration. _


End file.
